Death's Merchant
by soitgoes-staygold
Summary: Death pays a visit to Tony Stark. He needs Tony to make him something for a few worthy people.


There was a manic aura hovering around the lab as AC/DC blared through the speakers as Tony Stark flitted from one hologram projection to another. Projections for improvements on Widow's spider bites and new arrowheads for Barton were displayed across the screens. A suit was strung up in one corner showing scorch marks as JARVIS ran diagnostics. Two bots were wheeling around bringing tools and holding the fire extinguisher ready, while the third was in the corner with a dunce cap on its head. Death reached out and stroked along the arm of the robot as he watched Tony murmur to himself about increase electrical output. DUM-E whirred as Death continued to stroke the metal arm, Tony had yet to notice the others' presence and JARVIS could not detect the energy signature Death was emitting.

Death strolled over to the hanging Iron Man suit and casually studied its scarred remains. With a quirk of his lips he glanced back at the self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Death found himself meeting the bewildered gaze of Tony Stark. The man was clutching a wrench as if to protect himself and glancing around suspiciously. "JARVIS, you there buddy. We kind of have an intruder," the inventor called for his AI. "Sir, I am detecting no anomalies or intrusions within the lab. It is possible you are hallucinating for you have been awake for 59 hours," JARVIS responded. "Yeah, no, definitely not seeing things. Old guy, real thin, doing a great impression of a walking corpse," Tony continued as he maneuvered closer to his suit. "Who are you and what do you want, also how'd you get in here? Cause that, that is a neat trick," Tony mused as he eyed the darkly clad figure.

"I have need of your talents Mr. Stark," Death began with a hand indicating to the general inventions in the lab. "As for who I am, well, I suppose you can call me Death, most everyone does," a smirk graced his features as Death's hands settled back on his cane. Tony's mouth did a lovely impression of a dying fish as he floundered for words. Visibly shaking himself, Tony stood up straighter. "Can I get you some coffee, tea, maybe the soul of a newborn child," Tony sassed before quickly snapping his mouth shut. Death only chuckled and indicated that they should sit down. Tony spun a wheeled chair over as Death took a seat on the couch Tony would sometimes sleep on when he couldn't bother to make it to his room.

"Please tell me you're not here to collect my soul," Tony pleaded with his best puppy dog eyes. Death only gave him a sardonic look as he reached into his coat pocket and took out a small, leather bound book. Death held the book out indicating for Tony to take it, Tony gave a small wince, "I don't like to be handed things," he said at Death's arched eyebrows. Death tossed the book at Tony who reflexively caught it and began thumbing through it. Most of what Tony saw didn't make sense. The book was filled with diagrams, lists of ingredients, combat techniques, weaponry, and things Tony couldn't tell head from tails of. Every page seemed to be written in a different language at first before it changed to English before Tony's eyes. He looked up at Death in awe. "I need you to make some weapons for me Mr. Stark," Death intoned. Tony's back immediately stiffened, he didn't do that anymore, he only made weapons for the Avengers, to protect the world. There was no way in hell he was making weapons for something that claimed to be Death, however possible that was.

"They are not strictly for me," Death answered Tony's unspoken objection. "If they are made correctly they will only be able to be wielded by those who are worthy," Death continued to appease Tony's reluctance. "So, Thor," Tony smirked as he continued to flip through the book. "No. Thor is a worthy Asgardian no doubt, but not in the way these weapons require," Death stated. "You will need to find a partner, someone who can wield the magic in order to lay it into the weapons," Death instructed as he stood up from the couch and made to leave. "This needs to be done Mr. Stark. Can you be the Merchant of Death again?" Death questioned as he looked at Tony speculatively. "There is literally no one in this world who uses magic that I like," Tony deadpanned with an exaggerated eye roll. "Then look off planet," Death smirked and vanished leaving a dumbfounded genius in his wake. "If that's some subtle hint about contacting a certain god you can forget it!" Tony bellowed after the disappearing entity. With an aggravated huff, "Merchant of Death again, this time literally for Death," Tony mumbled as he tossed down the book and motioned for JARVIS to shut everything down, he needed to sleep for once.


End file.
